Free The Weirdo by Theodore Taylor

even for healthy ones."
    He put the collar around the neck of 1-88.
    "This spacer will rot out in eight to twelve months, and the collar'll drop off. Watch, you fit it so it won't fall off, yet doesn't fit tight enough to choke him." The spacer was made of cotton webbing.
    Once the collar was in place, Telford lifted the rag off the bear's eyes and rose.
    "Do we stick around until he wakes up?" Chip asked.
    "Nope. He'll just run off into the brush when he comes out of it."
    Gathering the gear, they returned to the truck and went on toward the next snare site, about a mile away.
    "Do you ever name any of the bears?" Chip asked.
    "I don't. Be my guest."
    Chip said, after a moment's thought, "I think that one should be called Henry."
    He looked like a comic, a clown. Henry!
    ***
    THERE were bears in three of the four snares, Henry being the largest, and by day's end Chip was measuring, putting on collars, and using the thermometer, generally making himself useful.
    That evening, he said to his father, "Imagine me sticking a thermometer up a bear's bung. I did it! Right up there."
    John Clewt laughed. "Not many people can say that."
    "God, Telford is great! He knows so much about these bears. I haven't had such a good time in years," Chip said, face showing it.
    "That's the best news I've heard in a long while," his father said. "The very best..."
    Clewt's own face said more than words. There'd been a lot of uncertainty, many sleepless nights, after he'd convinced Chip to come and live with him in the Powhatan. Almost total strangers to each other at that point, nearly enemies, neither of them had known how it would all work out.
    ***
    BARBARA "Binkie" Petracca had come by the Dairy Queen on Broad just before closing time. Sam, in her red DQ smock and baseball cap, was closing up. Her night to stay late. The other two girls had gone home an hour earlier. Cleaning took most of a half hour with sponges and hot water after the doors were locked at nine o'clock.
    "Anyone 'interesting' today?" Binkie asked idly, sitting sideways in a booth, feet over the edge. Binkie had an oval face and olive skin, beautiful teeth and a nice smile, but porky legs.
    Sam knew what she meant. Boys. Gliding the sponge along the counter, Sam said, "No."
    The assistant manager, Dennis, older than Sam by five years, was counting money in the back room. Dennis was never impressed with what the teenage help had to say, anyway. They were to be tolerated, at best.
    Along with Darlene Austin, Binkie was Sam's best friend. Since Darlene and Binkie were lucky enough to live in Currituck, when school wasn't in session visiting was usually limited to the phone. Or on afternoons or nights when they stopped by the DQ to chat, such as now. They were a threesome at occasional movies; shopped together sometimes; and shared burgers at Ashbum's over on Riddle, near the high school, a hangout of sorts. Hardee's, near City Hall, was for families and older folks.
    Laughter hiding a measure of pain and frustration, they called themselves the "Wanting Sisters," a takeoff on those post office posters for high crimes, two chubbies and a skinny waiting to be wanted. Darlene looked a httle like Roseanne Barr, and Binkie was stubby. Then there was Sam. Of the three, Sam had the best chance of beating the physical rap. Her thin arms and pipe-stem legs were certain to pick up some shape down the line.
    The Wanting Sisters hung out together in Albemarle Unified, sat side by side at football and basketball games. As if their heads were mechanically controlled, they looked as one when a choice boy came through the door at Ashbum's. Then they dissected him. They did it for fun and laughs. At times, they also did it wishing they could walk out on his arm.
    Yet the Wanting Sisters were among the brightest in AHS, and they had other talents. Binkie was star slugger and catcher for girls' Softball. Darlene played an astonishing violin and sang contralto in the choir. Sam was the best guard